Fight or Flight By jfarrell

Fight or Flight

By jfarrell


The door opens…

The unseen dog goes for me…

It’s owner raises his fist as I cower..

“I’ve had enough of people like you….”



My therapists tell me, the way the brain works,

All them hormones and chemicals being released,

It’s all about ‘Fight or Flight’

Our body preparing us

To resist or to run.


I freeze.

Anticipating the pain,

Anticipating the shame;

There is no running or fighting back

Just waiting for inevitable violence.


6 years old, my dad drunk, angry because….

I couldn’t spell bronchitis…. I took the wrong book to school…

My sister hurt herself at home, while I’m at school…

He’s mainly angry because he is unhappy with his lot

And this is his way of dealing with it.


6 years old - where would I run to?

6 years old - I’m gonna fight my dad?

Maybe, this is why no ‘fight or flight’;

Just waiting for the inevitable;

Waiting for the beating.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

no more fight or flight for me - my invisible dragon gonna burn everyone ;-)

The Off Grid Life

the off-grid life.

untied from the shackles of strife,

2017, the modern existence,

getting on the property ladder, how does anyone have a chance?
20, 25 or 30, forced to work to pay every bill,

going to work all hours, struggling to find a way, a life against our will,

needing the money from any form of work, mostly unprogressive, unhappy 
life passing by, frustrating, anger, decreasing self-worth, causing individuals to be snappy

unfulfilled, potentials are not met, working a job all day, unable to progress,

money is the key factor, for bills to be met, let me digress.

often they still aren't causing pain and suffering, stress and depression,

homelessness is rife through the country, a feeling of regression,

a feeling of being stuck, how to retrain and improve your careers?
speak to friends or family and the same conversation, doubts, and fears
if only another option was available,

one that was accepted and not just for the vulnerable,

the homeless, the people with nothing,

but how is this existence different? it is truly crushing,

once you can see that your life is consumed with working for money,

the soul has passed, your energy too, it can get so hard it's not even funny,

but who understands? in the face of consumerism, higher purchase, loans, and debt,

who is living a life, truly satisfied, and their dreams are met?

Not all people living off-grid are rich in cash!
but they aim for other needs; security in food & energy, it's worth a bash,


a growing transition for many people too,

it's not just for the hippies, the spiritual, it's for people like me and you,

think about it for a moment or two...

who would you be without your car, house and your possessions?
is that person you portray the real you? or do you blend in so people don't ask questions?
are you honest with your family and friends?

or do you sit behind a desk wishing it would end?
there is a wealth of knowledge of old traditions,

from a time when they lived without these conditions,

the conditions of social media, advertising, marketing ads or vlogs

when screen time didn't consume every waking hour, and children were fascinated with tadpoles transforming into frogs.

hours spent outside, climbing trees, playing at the park,

not allowed home unless it was tea time or had gotten dark.


a shift is happening, ecotherapy, wild schooling, bushcraft, and hikes,

forest schooling, homeschooling, people walking and out on their bikes,

scientists are noticing the effects on children's behaviors, reduced health issues,

ADHD,  also a boost in self-awareness, positivity, confidence and mental health issues

is it easier to sit a child down to hours in front of the tv, or ipad?

than it is to spend a few hours playing down the park with dad?

or baking a cake with mum, the importance of these skills are being misplaced,

in this consumerism world, with employees a number, in a life so fast-paced.


Off-grid living, the communities hidden away,

all they want is a parcel of land to look after their needs, but hey,

that's not possible, 'cause where will the local council get their tax,

with the community, living off the land, growing food and chopping wood with an axe,

the need and usage of government-owned services would become minute,

living simply and within your skills of the land, renewables used, an abundance of fruit,

food preserved in many forms, jams and chutneys, frozen meat,

enough food to last year-round to survive through winter, or in the heat,

the food produced off the land, tending the garden, and grown for nutrition,

the most important for life and health also said to aid in remission.

off grid homesteaders, don't need to take the flack,

with health as the focus, working outdoors to provide, lowering the need for prozac,
comments from shallow minded people need not be said,

the power of community, working together, I want to spread,

to include children in the transition, of conserving nature and our wildlife,


the tranquil setting amongst the seasons, watching the stars, that's my type of nightlife.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is my first time sharing my poetry, (after a few friends encouraged me that I should) please be kind and send your thoughts.

Also all words are opinions of myself in the modern world that we live in. 

This is not meant to cause offense, harm, upset to anyone, and if it does please understand that is not my intention.


Many thanks,



By JFarrell


Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT);

Everything is my fault;

How I behave brings it on.

Walking around, looking like a tramp, looking scared;

Well, of course predators are going to attack you.


Cognitive Analytical Therapy;

Everything is my fault;

I don’t think it through, so I bring it on.

I don’t think it through enough, to know a dog I’ve never seen, will be at this spot, 3 o’clock tomorrow;

So, of course, the startled dog will go for you. And so will it’s owner.


Mindfulness Meditation;

Everything is my fault;

You don’t appreciate this moment, now.

Because you don’t appreciate now, you will be upset when someone takes the piss out of your stutter;

Why is not OK to be angry, when someone takes the piss out of you?


The abuse from my mum doesn’t matter;

The violence from my dad doesn’t matter;

The being raped, when I was 6, doesn’t matter;

The bullying, the torment, throughout school doesn’t matter;

The time spent in Care doesn’t matter.


Therapy tells me

Everything is my fault;

I’m an adult now and should pull myself together

And take responsibility.

Everything is my fault.



Author's Notes/Comments: 

my feelings follwing my  therpy sessions

Her Particular Secret

Second youngest living thing in a room
fraught with sighs.
A couple shared a joke too loudly, and
now I've got her face on lock:
should I need a way to focus.
A woman in the corner conversed
as if blind to the
shivering blob of humanity that
sat complaining about her.
With some pride, she
said aloud a few ways to hide
the water from your eyes
at work, "Don't let them know
you're weak." She said;
as if they were we, or something like
a villain to her, just now,
and only in this waiting room.
Yet we listened,
though I've forgotten since then.
I find I've got all the focus I need.

View sivus's Full Portfolio


I came to you for help, my dear. And had
I known, I would have limped straight out that door.
I couldn’t say that I’m not going mad,
Wanting to simply be with you forevermore.

Yet can you blame this Fool? I saw your face;
At once it burned into my retinae.
The scar you have upon your brow, your grace,
Your perfect mouth, all pointed to up high.

Your form contains seductive tensile strength,
Evinced by posture and the lie of clothes
That almost seem to shimmer on your length
From your shoulders right the way down your toes.

You, you, are belle. Tu es; sans doute, ma chère.
I want, one day, to intertwine your hair,
Without a care, and pray that we have nothing left to say.

View fhmc's Full Portfolio


Poems 2007-2008


I scream my heart out
But no one hears me
They all have forsaken me
I yell my soul away
And they just stare
For they think I'm crazy
I cut out my life
and I bleed to death

They just walk away
and let me to die


Author's Notes/Comments: 

This one was written during therapy.

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